There was a map- a sort of map, anyway.  There was a small metal plaque on the platform at the top of the stairs, and etched into it was the shape of the hills and towns around them.  The ones that Rube definitely hadn’t been able to see from the ground.  The ones that she definitely hadn’t seen when they’d driven up here yesterday afternoon, either.

“So, you said it looked like Sally was heading this way,” said Jeanette, pointing in the direction of the mountains and then tracing the equivalent route on the map.  “So…”

“So what’s the quickest way for us to get to her?” Rube finished.  Because that had to be the priority.  Find Sally first; worry about how screwed-up everything was later.  Maybe when they found her and stopped panicking, they’d finally see that there was a simple explanation for everything, but even if they didn’t, at least they’d all be together again.

The staircase ended at a white, rectangular platform- maybe four or five yards across- with a safety rail around the edges.  (Rube didn’t know why the platform had a safety rail when the stairs didn’t have any bannisters.  Maybe it was just there so there’d be somewhere to put the map.). Rube wasn’t about to lean over the edge and check, but she was pretty sure there wasn’t anything under the platform, any more than there had been anything under the staircase once it left the ground.  The whole structure was just jutting out into thin air.

“We could see if we can hitch a ride on one of those purple things?” Jeanette suggested, “If they could come over to the house and pick up Sally, they must be able to come over here too, right?”

Rube looked back down at the map.  The places had little labels carved onto them- Opal Hill, Wallfruit Cove, Reynard Woods.  They were such weirdly nice names.  Like street names in a really dull, wealthy part of town.  “I think we should keep an eye on those purple things,” she told Jeanette, “If it turns out that there’s a place they all go back to, we should probably head there.”

“Ok,” said Jeanette, “Sounds like a plan.”

“I just wish we’d brought a notebook.  Or even just a pen.”  She traced the wobbly routes between the places on the map.  She didn’t need to double-check to see that they corresponded with the little white walls down on the ground.  “Because when we do work out where we’re going, we’ll have to find our way there by…”

Rube broke off.  She’d spotted something.

There were labels on the map, with their weirdly nice names, and it wasn’t such a surprise that there was one for Uncle Colwyn’s house, slap bang in the centre.  But it was a little bigger than most of the others- three words instead of two.  It read, “Dovecote Gardens (Falada).”

(To be continued)